


A Trade

by shhhhhh



Series: Chasefield Moments & Adventures [2]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 03:03:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7600948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shhhhhh/pseuds/shhhhhh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max pissing off Victoria and Victoria getting what she really wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Trade

**Author's Note:**

> I just need a lot more Chasefield in my life.

“Get back here, Caulfield!”

You run as fast as you can, past the students milling around the narrow corridors of Blackwell Academy.

“You will not live till tomorrow!”

Running any faster is a struggle as find yourself already out of breath. Not because you’re not fit (not that you are really fit in the first place), but because you can’t control the laughter in you. Students turn their heads towards you as you run past them, a wild chick with crazy eyes, waving a polaroid picture in your hand.

“I know where your room is!”

You turn around for a split second and wink at the figure down the hall. A tall angry figure, outlined by the blonde hair on her head and skin that seem to shine in the light. Victoria stands with her feet apart, as if contemplating if she should bother chasing after you. But you are running again with the picture of her, frozen mid-sneeze, in your hands. You hold onto it as if you had just caught a picture of a unicorn.  

 

-

 

“Max, open up!”

You open your eyes with a groan. Your clock shows an ungodly hour and you stretch your tired body, exhausted from the run earlier today. You try and blink yourself awake, but when you hear three loud knocks (or slams) on your door, you grin and find yourself wide awake.

“Who is it?” you ask, as if you don’t know the owner of the furious knocks on the other side of your door.

“You damn well know who I am. Open this door now, Caulfield, or I swear –“

You swing the door wide open and see Victoria with her fist raised, ready to wreak havoc onto your door again. She looks at you with her eyes wide open as if caught in an unnatural act. You keep a straight face and look at her expectantly because you know that keeping your cool makes Victoria uncomfortable.

The beauty queen (you assume she’s won beauty pageants before) clears her throat and folds her arms. You see her back straighten as she poises herself for conflict and stares at you for a moment, daring you to lose your cool before she does. And you are just about to when she speaks, “Where is that damn photo, Caulfield.”

Your lips press into a thin line as you refrain from smiling. “You know for a person whose last name is Chase, you are pretty bad at it,” you say as you arch your eyebrow. _Keep your cool_ , you tell yourself, as if being cool is the name of the game.

“Oh trust me, Caulfield, there are many ways to chase something… or _someone_ ,” Victoria growls as she pushes her way past you and into your room. She takes in your room with condescend, her arms still folded. You can’t stop from blushing a little because you are sure she notices the pile of clothes on your desk chair. You had meant to fold them and keep them in your closet, but you remembered you were a single, lazy teenager living on your own and it wasn’t like you were expecting company. Well, in all honesty, you knew that you should have expected Victoria after the picture you had taken of her.

“You can sit on the bed,” you tell Victoria. She rolls her eyes and elegantly takes a sit at the edge of your bed. She immediately crosses her legs, a habit you guess she’s acquired right out of etiquette classes. You wonder how a person can sit so upright on something so soft and comfy.

“As I were saying,” Victoria clears her throat, “That picture you took of me today is not an accurate depiction of the kind of person I truly represent and I would like - no, I would _need_ you to give it to me right now and never speak of it again.” You see Victoria’s eyebrows crossed, but are surprised that she hasn’t blown up into that mega Hulk bitch you know she’s capable of.

You frown and pretend to deliberate whether you should fulfil her request. “I will trade you for it,” you say with a cheeky smile.

“Trade?” It is Victoria’s turn to frown. “Alright, fine,” she unfolds her arms and stands up. “You can come to the Vortex party this Friday, God knows that’s the only reason you are trying my patience with this ridiculous affair right now.” She puts her left hand on her waist and lifts her right hand, ready to receive the picture.

“Vic, I don’t care about a stupid Vortex party.”

“Ugh,” Victoria throws her hands in the air and you know that she is close to her green mutant form. “What _do_ you want then, Max?”

You smile because she called you Max. “I will trade you that picture for a kiss.”

“What!” Your eyebrows mimic Victoria’s raised ones because you are equally as shocked as her at your audacity.  

“A kiss,” you force yourself to continue. “And it has to be proper. And okay, I won’t tell anyone,” you add the last bit just in case.

“Jesus, Max. I knew you had the hots for me, but if you think I think the same of you – “

“It’s just a trade, Vic. It doesn’t have to mean anything. What are you afraid of?” You cross your arms as a challenge. Victoria stays quiet and studies you for a moment as if waiting for you to budge. You keep your composure still and steady.

Victoria finally sighs, “Fine.” You start to grin as she continues, “But I swear, you better get it out of your stupid little head if you think that I have even a single remote feeling for you.” You simply shrug and unfold your arms.

You take a step closer to her and wait expectantly. She hesitates for a bit before stepping to close the gap between the two of you and you find yourself face to face with the prettiest, meanest bitch of Blackwell Academy. _So beautiful though_ , you think to yourself. Victoria’s eyes dart around for a moment and you feel the same nerves that she probably feels as well. But as her eyes finally rest on yours, you notice the depth in them.

Her brown eyes capture you and you are reminded of autumn and coffee and everything warm that eventually cools. You notice her perfect face and her perfect complexion. Her pink lips have a dark tinge to it and she smells lightly of cigarettes. She is both warm and cold, soft and hard. You recall moments where you notice her often hidden kindness before her usual explosive cruelness. You know that Victoria is not as she seems.

Your lips are only inches from hers and you feel her breath on you. Neither of you seem to close the small gap between you, but somehow gravity seems to pull both of you towards each other. When your lips finally meet, you notice her eyes close naturally just before you close yours. The kiss is soft at first, but you feel Victoria’s hands cup your cheeks and slowly pull you in for more. You raise your hands and place them on her waist.

You taste both coffee and cigarettes and perhaps some mint, but you aren’t sure. You feel her lips part further as you tilt your head a little. Her hands move to the back of your neck and you feel her gently pulling you closer as if asking for more. You feel your heart racing as a dying need grows inside of you, the need to taste more of her. The need to feel her close to you, to hug her tight and to never let her go. You feel a moan building up in you and it becomes too much. You let your nerves take over and pull back before you embarrass yourself or scare her off.

Victoria’s hands are still holding the back of your neck and you see that her pupils are blown. The both of you drop your hands at the same time and you rub your arm in nervousness. You become so shy, you can’t bring yourself to look into that same hazelnut eyes you were so lost in just a moment ago and neither of you make eye contact again. “Um,” you hum as you look for your camera bag. You spot it at the corner of your bed and grab it hurriedly, your nerves making you extremely uncomfortable as your mind begins to process the fact that you just kissed (or made out with) Victoria.

You unzip your camera bag and pull out the photo that started all of this. The photo that brought Victoria to your room. The reason that Victoria made out with you. You remind yourself that it was all for the photo and nothing to do with her feelings. And your own feelings didn’t matter, definitely not to Victoria. “Here,” you turn to her and hold the picture out in front of her. She looks at it, her left hand folded as her right hand seem to touch and linger on the lips you’ve just kissed. You almost jump out of your skin as she looks straight at you and snatches the photo right out of your hand.

You feel like her gaze could literally melt you where you stand. You start to turn and show her the way out of your room before you actually do, but she grabs your hands and forces the photo back into them. You stare at the picture for a few seconds, confused. You look back up at her and start to question her when you feel her lips crash against yours. This time the kiss is desperate and you both try to taste as much of each other as possible. She wants so much of you that she presses her body against yours, as if having no space between your bodies is still too much space for her. Soon, you find yourself off-balance and fall backwards onto your bed.

She is standing over you and you are both breathing heavily. “Hold on to that photo,” she commands, “We’re not done trading yet.” She climbs onto you and your lips meet again for the third time.

  

 


End file.
